


Oh shit! It’s shit

by fandomtrashbutimflazeda



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomtrashbutimflazeda/pseuds/fandomtrashbutimflazeda
Summary: It’s 1984, Carol and Barb are just coming to Litchfield Max and in there Carol finds River Donahue.They start off as partners in crime but it ends in something close to heartbreak once they fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

1982 bc (before Carol)

‘He deserved it. He’s been hurting you for years. You did the right thing. He deserved it. He’s been hurting y-‘

My inner mantra was cut short by the sound of loud sirens and yelling. The red haze that had taken over my brain was finally clear, and with that clarity came the sight of copious amounts of blood along with my mother’s voice screaming over the phone.

I didn’t mean to do it. If I’m being honest there was no plan to kill or to even fight back when we would inevitably fight tonight, but when I came home to him beating my mother that was the last straw.

I’ve never fought back. Whenever I am around him there is only a shell of me present. It’s almost as if I’m on autopilot. 

Empty.

Lost.

Scared.

But now I guess I don’t have to worry about any of that because when I look to my left, there’s only a lump vaguely resembling John.

There’s so much blood but I remember the feel of his nose breaking under my fist and his eyes swelling up just as my fists rained down on his face.

I’ve never been squeamish but this is way more blood than any person could handle. I knew what had happened but I just didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

The policemen rushed into the house and within all the shuffling and cuffing I saw my mother looking at me like a monster. 

That’s my last memory of her. I’ve stopped feeling guilty about beating John to death. He got what was coming to him but I didn’t want to kill anyone. 

I still don’t want to kill but sometimes it’s necessary. I’ve realized that now after being in prison for almost 2 years.

The process of being stripped, searched, and basically branded as property is one of the most demoralizing and dehumanizing experiences of my life.

When I was shown my block that they call C I was with no other women. There were no other new arrivals leaving me to fend for myself.

The guard with a thick mustache and an even thicker cloud of cologne smirked at me and said the words that will always be in the back of my mind.

“Welcome to prison Donahue. I hope your stay is as unpleasant as your crime. Now get outta my sight murderer!”


	2. Chapter 2

The trial only lasted 6 months. I had no chance of ever being acquitted when the jury saw John’s body and face so bloody and disfigured that he was unrecognizable.

After seeing those pictures I threw up once I got back in the bare cell I was kept in. Even if he beat me mercilessly and made my life a living hell, I felt guilty for killing that awful human.

Was it my own guilt? My mother’s disappoint? I don’t really know but I feel like shit either way. I will definitely have a lot of time to think about my life and what I’m going to miss.

One person in particular comes to mind.

Eve.

Such a simple name for an endlessly complicated and interesting human being. Words cannot describe how special and warm you feel under her attention. 

We were not dating and I’m pretty sure that no one could ever love me like I love them but I think she’s about as close as anyone could get to me.

She’s probably the only thing that I will miss about that hellish small minded town that we had only briefly lived in. She probably heard about what I did, she probably hates me. What we did probably disgusts her. I’m so stupid and disgus-

“Hey Donahue, your attorney is gonna be here in about 5 minutes so be ready!” the fat freckled brody yells out at me. Once again interrupting my destructive thoughts about my ‘affliction’ for a fourth time today.

That’s the word John used when he tried to ‘cure’ me. He has been trying to ‘cure’ me for 5 years to no avail and believe me he has tried everything. I’ve been to conversionn therapy or as they call it reparative therapy which is the word they use in front of your parents while they do a bunch of shitty stuff behind closed doors.

I didn’t realize what was going on until I turned 13, when I met with a priest at John’s behest. He forced me to tell him about my crushes. Which to no surprise we’re all girls which according to the Lord is a sin. I was then given a ‘punishment’ to help correct them.

We moved all over the country throughout those 5 years. To help with my ‘treatment’ and because John couldn’t keep a job due to his drinking and his attitude and his overall demeanor and his shitty work ethic and everything about him.

The sad part about my trial other than the fact that I wasn’t going to win even after recounting all the horrible things being done to me was the fact that the newspaper headline shows ‘Teen girl brutally beats father to death’ that asshole is not my father and he never acted like he was.

My real father committed suicide when I was 11. According to my mother he was a tortured hippie artist with an affinity to Elvis. Hence my name River Blue Donahue which is apparently an homage to that Elvis song Blue River that came out around the time of my birth. 

I wish that I could remember what he was like, now all of my thoughts when thinking about any male figures are negative and nauseating. 

I find myself delving into my inner thoughts and I’m now quickly coming to the realization that I’m a deeply unhappy person. Now that what I think was an abusive situation is over. I can finally acknowledge that I haven’t truly been happy for 5 long years. 

And I’m still just sitting with no one to talk to as per usual. Even my own mother won’t look me in the eyes. 

I have a public defense attorney.

I had no friends before this and I have no friends now.

And I’m also going to die in prison. 

That was such a sobering thought process that when I heard the sqeak of cheap leather dress shoes I look up.

There’s my attorney with a nervous smile gracing his sweaty and ever flushed face. I knew that’s whatever he was going to tell me was not going to be good.

“How you doing River? I talked things over with the prosecutor and the judge and they want you to take a plea deal” he says with a failed attempt at an encouraging smile.

“What deal do they want me to take? I know that this is all pointless so how many years am I gonna get in jail rotting until die?” I say getting more and more defeated as I talk.

“Well they are willing to give you 25 years and maybe 9 years less if you have good behavior.” He quickly tries to placate me with the news with an actually sincere look on his ever perspiring face.  
“Look kid, I know you’re young and looking at those years as a death sentence but I’ve gotten to know you River as a person and you are the smartest and funniest young woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Even if the jury wasn’t able to see past that gory picture the prosecution used you should not give up. If anything you should fight even harder for a life that’s free of that monster. So even if you have ignored everything I’ve ever said to you or even if you don’t take anything from what I’m saying right now, just don’t lose your spark and don’t lose your head.” 

“Thank you Mr. Bosemanhein, it means a lot to hear that someone thinks that I’m not a monster. I’ll take the deal” I finally say with my voice breaking from emotion. No one has given me any sort of encouragement in half a decade. 

So that’s how I’ve found myself in front of my new home for the next 25 years in C block after that asshole CO called me a murderer. 

I see that my cell mate is laying down on the top bunk so I dump my stuff down on the bottom bunk and introduce myself. 

“I’m River and it looks like we’re gonna be cell mates” I say with a straight face because I can’t read her expression that’s hidden behind a book.

“Look cookie I don’t have time for introductions so keep your shit outta my shit and we wont have any problems. Got it?” 

“Yeah sure” I say already feeling like this was going to test me but Mr. Bosemanhein’s words are ringing in my head. 

So I continue on and go to lunch which looks like somebody threw up a diseased cat. But I stomach it because I’ve already lost most of my lean muscle. Now I’m just a tall string bean with dark circles under hazel green eyes. 

I feel someone’s eyes on me so I turn and catch an older woman smirking my way. She saunters over and holds her hand out. 

“The names Lou, what’s yours tall, dark and skinny?” the older woman asks me as she makes herself comfortable at the table I’ve picked.

“The names River, miss tall,blonde and blind” I say trying to make myself laugh because she has black rimmed glasses that are thicker that my thumb.

“I think we’ll get along very well jokester” she says with a smile. 

Great now I have one pseudo friend.

**Author's Note:**

> none of this is proofread so if you see a mistake please tell me.
> 
> this is also my first attempt at writing anything that isn’t shitty so please tell me how it’s flowing.


End file.
